If you have accidentally arrived here by googling something like Neurons Like Brandy (number four on google search don't you know? - this means that the remaining 5 Cay fans have found this) then I would recommend that you go to the index and start from the beginning. Trust me, it will mostly be worth it. For those of you here for another installment, read on. Do me a favour though, retweet the index link, link it on an appropriate forum, or like this post as I would appreciate any genuine exposure. That or some recommendations of where to plug this shit as I have no fucking idea where I should go.
Anyway, enjoy.
3: Present
It was the first day of their celebrations. It had been a year since the end of the world and 349 days since Phillip had declared the building their property.
Jay and Jocelyn were busy cooking tinned produce, prepared pickled vegetables so that they didn't taste of vinegar, and tomatoes and green beans from the greenhouse. There were even some mushrooms that Oli had picked them on downs outside Brighton; to his disappointment they weren't psychedelic.
The main dish was roast dog, a tubby Rottweitler that Joshua had shot two days previous and it would easily feed all of them. A fire had been made on the roof and Orfax had been left in charge of turning the dog on the spit.
With Phillip in charge, a tarpaulin had been erected in the sun. The cover, consisting of sewn together tent covers, was there to make sure that the English weather wouldn't spoil the festivities.
Oli and Dan managed to set up a decent sound system, after some arguing, Oli got his way and Hip hop that made the ground vibrate came on.
“After that, we have some Dub Reggae.” Dan warned.
“Why not go the whole hog and put some Mogwai on?” Oli retorted. “Fuck Diplomacy and party.”
“Mogwai isn't party music.”
“You're telling me.”
The table was made of scaffolding from the front of the house that they didn't need. Caryn had draped some sheets and curtains over the surface to hide the battered wood.
Once the table was set, everyone but Jay and Orfax sat down and started to drink. Dan was drinking out of date beer but most the others were on wine that had been lifted from a Tesco’s in Hove. Phillip was, as usual, supping on Jim Beam from a whiskey glass; it was 1PM.
Jay continued to busy himself down in the second floor with the food. Orfax stood proudly over the rotating carcass, as if he had been responsible for anything more than turning it over a burning fire.
Phillip produced a couple of bottles of some weird Portuguese alcohol called Medronho that no one had ever heard of. The stuff was strong and Phillip assured them it would get them wasted.
Jay brought up the starter, which was soup, much to everyone's disbelief.
“Where did you get the peas?” Isaac asked, mouth wide open.
“I got them from a bunch of Pot Noodles.” Jay beamed, then added hastily. “Don't worry I didn't waste them. I used the pasta up over the last week or so.”
This was hailed by a chorus of congratulations mixed in with a few 'that explains something'.
As the applause stopped, Dan noticed that the expression on Phillip's face had change. He was sitting at the head staring down to the other end of the table. Jay was standing next to him and his face turned to a look of concern.
Dan looked in the direction, as did the rest of the table. It was Michael.
The old man stood, swaying a little, his back bent so severely that his balding head was almost level with the table top. His scalp hidden under a workman's cap, his eyes scrunched up behind thick glasses as he tried to make out the group.
“When I brought him food last night,” Alison spoke up, “I warned him about the party so his birds wouldn't be scared. I sort of invited him as well.”
There was a pause then Phillip laughed.
“Of course, now everyone is here.”
“I've, I've, brou-brought. I've brought gifts. You see.” Michael said loudly. His voice very nasal, like he was suffering from a blocked nose.
He reached into the pockets of his winter coat and after some rummaging he produced two bits of bread and a quarter bottle of red wine. He held them up for display, a satisfied grin on his face, the lenses amplifying his eyelids.
There was another uncomfortable moment, while everyone seemed to be avoiding laughing. The table moved a little as Alison elbowed Phil B.
“Can I sit?” Michael shouted, raising his head slightly so that he could look down the bridge of his nose to see Phillip clearly through his thick glasses
“Certainly.” Phillip got up and took his own chair around the table to the old man. “There, would you like some soup?”
“Ooh, yes, yes that would be purrfect.” Michael clicked delightedly, craning his neck to try and see the tall youth properly again as Phillip stood next him.
Phillip turned to Jay, who shook his head.
“He can have mine.” Duck spoke out.
“Oh no. I couldn't. No that wouldn't do.” Michael frowned. “No, no, I couldn't you see. It's yours.”
“No, it's okay.” Duck said meekly. “I don't really like vegetables.”
“Really?” He said in disbelief, his wide eyes magnified by his lenses.
“Yeah. No problem.” She smiled nervously.
“Well that's ever so kind.” He smiled, nodding repeatedly. At what exactly, Dan wasn't sure. “Ever so kind.”
Jay brought the small bowl over. Michael removed his hat, sat down slowly, the act looking like it hurt him to do so. He searched for the spoon on his left, Joshua picked it up and gave it to him. They all watched as he lowered he guided the spoon to his mouth and then cheerily started to slurp the steaming liquid.
The chatter started again. Jay replaced Orfax at the spit so he could sit and eat, and he immediately sat down in his place next to Jo. Jo was sitting next to Dan, Dan was opposite Caryn and they bookended Phillip.
As he took his first sip of soup, Dan tried to remember what real soup tasted like. The last time had been over six months ago when they had killed a chicken and they had used its bones as stock.
Jo turned and gave Dan a peck on the cheek, he looked at her, a little surprised. She gave him a sweet smile and then laughed at his reaction.
“Isn't this great?” She asked him.
“Yeah,” he responded, still bemused. “It is.”
A series of toasts were made after the soup was finished.
Jay basted the dog thoroughly, he then started making cuts, while Jocelyn served them up with roast vegetables.
“Umm, I don't think I can eat dog.” This from Duck who was literally squirming in her seat.
“For fuck's sake Duck.” Phillip groaned. “You're eventually going to have to eat real food.”
Dan saw her begin to pull a face, then Maria placed her hand on Duck's shoulder and smiled:
“You're going to have to eat stuff like this one day. Just not today.” She said. “Phillip is just teasing.”
When everyone else was served, Jocelyn disappeared into the house, to reappear with a tray covered with aluminium foil. She placed it in front of Duck.
“We did the best we could.” Jay said.
Jocelyn removed the cover.
“ Voila! Margarita pizza, plus pepperami, jalapeños and many answered prayers.”
Duck looked around and grinned.
“Thanks you guys.”
“It was my idea.” Oli said, nudging her. “Phillip arranged it, but it was my idea.”
“I don't know what to say.” Duck shrugged, Dan thought she might be blushing.
“Hey, why don't I get pizza?” Orfax spoke out, smiling a little dopily.
“Because you've had dog before and you fucking liked it.” Phillip shot back, also smiling.
“ Yeh, but I don't think that that is any way to talk about my girlfriend, you know.” Orfax smirked.
Laughter erupted across the table. Jo turned to Orfax with a look of mock anger and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Look who's aiming to sleep alone tonight.” She snapped, her tone was aggressive but her look was playful.
Once the mirth had died down, Phillip stood up and addressed them all.
“Well,” he said. “There is one surprise we can all enjoy. Joshua if you would be so kind.”
Joshua got up and brought out a box from underneath the table. He opened the box to reveal a selection of wine flutes. He then produced three bottles of champagne.
“Now everyone used to rate French champagne, but I'm more of a South America sparkling wine. This stuff is the shit.” Phillip pointed at the Grey labeled bottles.
Joshua pulled the cork out of the first and started pouring some into each glass.
“Even if you don't like wine with bubbles, you have to try it. It isn’t just pumped full of gas, they actually ferment this. When the world wasn't fucked, it was hard enough to get this. I bought the last three in my shop and have been saving them for a special occasion.” Phillip enthused. “I managed to get back to my apartment about 8 months ago and I have been saving them ever since.”
Joshua conferred with Michael, then as he nodded. Joshua poured the little man a glass, then he started to pass the goblets up the table.
Phillip waited until everyone had a glass and were standing. He stuck out his glass.
“Here's to a future,” Phillip said looking directly at Maria's distended stomach, “and another year in the house.”
Everyone repeated the toast and were about to drink when Dan found himself saying:
“To old friends.”
All eyes were on him, except for Michael, who wasnt be able to see him.
No one said anything, but they raised their cups and drank.
They all sat down to begin the eating and drinking in earnest.
Dan heard Orfax tell Jay that they should have dog meat more often. Jay replied by saying that if he was willing to skin and gut the animal every time. Then they could have dog, cat, whatever, every night. Orfax didn't answer.
As the sun went down, they arranged lanterns to give illumination to the drunk conversations. As the last bottle of wine came to an end the toasts began. Each person trying to be as ridiculous as possible, Dan especially liked Joshua's:
“To aliens, and that they come and abduct me for anal probes and other pleasures.”
Each declaration was met with cheers. For a while everyone seemed to forget that there were hundreds, possibly thousands of things that would quite happily rip them apart only within spitting distance.
Everyone was in full throes of merriment by the time the sun went down.
Dan slowed down his intake, he was in the mood to watch the sun come up. Phillip pulled out another bottle of vodka at around eleven in the evening. That evaporated down everyone's throats soon after and was immediately replaced by a bottle of Jim Beam.
Maria, the only one not drinking, was the first to go. Yawning, she slid out of her chair and wished them all a goodnight.
Jay followed, before he made it to the door Oli shouted after him:
“Hey man. You two made an amazing fucking meal!”
Jay smiled and nodded.
“Dude, before you go, I feel a toast coming on.” Oli forced himself to stand, wobbling as he did so. He eventually found his glass and everyone joined him. Lazily he announced. “To the two chefs, bring on next year.”
“To the chefs.” Came a chorus.
Jay kept on smiling:
“Ever since I was a kid, all I wanted was to be a cook.” He bade them good night and left.
Oli drunkenly turned to Jocelyn.
“What about you Jocee?” He slurred. “Did you want to be a cook?”
“Hell no, I wanted to be a ballerina.” Jocelyn giggled.
“Me too!” Jo piped up.
“That is before I got some fucking sense.” Jocelyn bounced back.
“Awh, but they are so pretty.” Jo said, slurring her words a little.
“Yeah. “ Jocelyn conceded. “Yes they are.”
The two girls exchanged smiles.
“What did you want to be Phillip?” This came from Phil B. He was holding his glass up to a candle and looking through the alcohol solemnly as he spoke.
“Stunt man.” Phillip replied. “I liked the idea of falling down stairs.”
“I wanted to be a fire woman or an actress.” Alison said.
“What about you O.?” Oli, still standing after his toast, regarded his friend.
“What about you?” Orfax asked.
“I asked you first.”
“Yeh... well you can answer first.” Orfax said drunkenly.
“Okay,” Oli grinned. “I wanted to be a terrorist.”
“Fuck off.” Craig spluttered. “Why?”
“ ’Cause explosions are cool.” Oli sniggered.
He sat down suddenly, looking serious, then he jerked his head in Orfax's direction.
“Well what about you man, what did you want to be?”
“I wanted to be a bird.”
Oli frowned.
“You wanted to be a transsexual?”
More laughter.
“Nah, I wanted to be a bird with wings, you know... that flies around and stuff.”
“Good luck man.” Oli laughed.
Everyone seemed to take that as a moment to drink.
“What about...” Phillip trailled off. “Who hasn't answered the question, Phil B. what did you want to be?”
“A film director.”
“It would have been cool if I could have been a celebrity gardener.” Craig followed his brother.
“I would have, have. I would have li-liked to have been a poet.” Michael said, reminding them that he was there. “They made me a builder instead.”
“A builder of what?” Oli asked.
Michael hesitated, then responded quietly:
“Of everything.”
There was a pause as the people tried to figure out what he meant.
“Who hasn’t answered?” Phillip called out.
Dan felt himself shrinking away from the prospect of answering.
“I wanted to be a writer, still do.” Caryn said, smiling at him. “What about you, Dan?”
“I wanted to be,” Dan searched for a lie, “a doctor.”
“I didn't want to be anything when I was little. But I wanted to be a porn star when I was fifteen.” Isaac piped in, staring intently at his glass.
This was responded with more cackles.
“What?” Isaac said defensively. “What's wrong with dreams?”
“I wanted to be the wife of a rich, impotent man.” Duck smiled, the alcohol giving her the courage to speak out.
Dan caught Oli and Orfax exchanging glances.
“What about you Joshua?” Phillip asked, his speech audibly slurred.
“I wanted to be a secret agent, a spy, or an assassin.” Joshua smiled in the flickering of the candles. “I always liked the idea of sneaking around, watching people and then killing them.”
“Killing was never the answer.” Michael said decisively.
“Maybe not then,” Joshua said, taking a sip of his drink. “But now it is.”
The partying continued and Phillip managed to stagger out of his chair and into the house to get another couple of bottles of spirits. Michael retreated to his hut and birds; Dan caught a little knowing smile on the old man’s face as he left. When everyone noticed he was gone the music was turned down as a sign of respect.
Orfax managed to get up and put on another CD, Dan didn't recognise it: just another piece of electronica with a beat.
Jo started dancing to the music, drunkenly, happily, bouncing around in time to the barely audible bass. She managed to drag Jocelyn up to join her. Her partner's movements more awkward but it didn't seem to bother her as she pirouetted around.
Oli jumped up as well and tried to convince Duck to join him. When she refused, he carried on regardless. Despite his drunkenness, he was surprisingly fast and fluid, so dizzying Dan had to look away.
He turned back to look at the two dancing girls, in time to see Jo lean forward and stick her tongue down Jocee's throat.
The snogging session continued long enough for Oli to stop and witness it. “What the fuck?” He said grinning. “Smoked by two beeatches kissing!”
The couple stopped, Jo started stroking her partner's cheek then she leaned forward and whispered something in to her ear. Jocelyn looked a bit surprised but, after a moment, she nodded.
Dan watched Jo walk seductively over to Orfax, her famous, cheeky smile gleaming. She lent over and said something to her boyfriend that provoked him to open his eyes wide, put down his drink and get up out of his chair very quickly.
The three of them hurried off.
“What? Not even a reach around?” Oli shouted, snickering drunkenly to himself.
He came over to sit next to Dan, managing to mumble something before passing out.
Half an hour later, Phillip had polished off one of the bottles of Medronho and was half way through a bottle of Jack Daniels when Joshua intervened.
“Dude maybe you should think of going to bed.”
Phillip looked at him, his lolling head not totally in his control.
“You know what?” He said, slurring brazenly. “I think you are right.”
Joshua helped his friend out of the seat. He was probably around half a foot shorter. Yet he slung the boy's arm over his shoulder and guided him out with ease. This made Dan start, he could still remember the effort he had had to drag Phillip out of a car crash. It had been about 8 months ago it had happened during a raid and Phillip had been knocked out. George had managed to get out and fend off a small group of drifters while Dan had yanked the unconscious boy out of the car. He could still feel the sweat bursting from his forehead that day as he had used all his strength to get the lump out. They had been lucky that Denny and Jo had shown up in the second car to get them to safety. Of course, Dan reasoned, that had been before he had been in any semblance of shape before he had stopped eating junk food. Even with all the drinking and the drugs he was tougher and leaner than he had ever been before the end of the world.
Craig and Isaac shuffled to the Greenhouse for a late night smoke not long afterwards. Then the power was switched off and the music died.
Caryn tried to get Oli to wake up, after several failed attempts, she went in search of a cover. She came back with two blankets and used one to tuck him in. He snored contentedly oblivious of the gesture, his mouth wide open and slack. Caryn returned to her place at the table with a thick blanket for herself.
“He’ll thank you in the morning.” Phil B. nodded
“No he won’t, he won’t even remember.” Alison snorted derisively.
“Yeah, most likely just wake up in a daze and go downstairs and get high with Orfax.” Caryn acknowledged. “But at least I will feel better.”
“Ever the matyr.” Alison teased.
“Hey, it is nice to be nice to people.” Caryn retorted.
“What’s left of them.” Alison said. “God, I am so sick of listening to that noise, I thought I would get used to it eventually but it still wakes me up.”
“Don’t you have ear plugs?” Caryn asked.
“Yeah, they just don’t seem work, it is like the noise they make is on a different sound level, almost like I can feel them rather than hear them.”
“Weird,” Caryn shrugged, “they work for me.”
“Well, everyone is different.” Phil B. interjected.
“What about you Duck?” Caryn asked. “How do you find it?”
“I just, I.” Duck started the sentence and then seemed to get a little confused. “I just smoke.”
Dan took a look at Duck, it was probably the most drunk he had ever seen her. In fact, he couldn’t recall her ever being drunk before.
“Are you alright Duck?” Alison inquired, she seemed to have noticed how drunk she was.
Duck put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands and moaned.
“I’m fine, I think. Ugh.” She half-whined. “Why do I always get like this?”
“I’ll get you back to your room.” Phil B. offered.
“No, no, no, I am fine.” Duck stood up unsteadily.
“Are you sure?” Caryn asked.
Duck sat back down heavily.
“No.” She rolled the ‘o’.
“Come on Duck let me get you downstairs.” Phil B. persisted. “You don’t want to fall asleep up here.”
“Fine.” Duck slumped against Phil B. as if she had given up on pretending to be in control.
Phil B. and Alison exchanged a look then Phil B. got Duck walking and into the house.
By the time they had left, Caryn just started laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” Alison asked.
“Awh, it is just funny to see Duck come out of her shell. She has spent so much time on her own. She didn’t really know anyone else in the house, except for her boyfriend.” Caryn took a drink. “Him and George.”
“Yeah.” Dan agreed. “It isn’t like the rest of us, who have known each other in some form or another.”
“Exactly.” Caryn said, maybe a little quickly.
“Well I don’t really know you guys.” Alison countered.
“Yes, but you have Philip and Craig around.” Caryn replied. “Duck doesn’t really have anyone except for Lester the Molester here.”
To emphasise her point she reached over and poked Oli. He mumbled something but carried on sleeping. They all laughed quietly.
“Do reckon he stands a chance?” Caryn mused.
“Unlikely.” Alison said. “I think that she loved her previous boyfriend too much.”
“Really?” Caryn sounded surprised. “What makes you think that?”
Alison shrugged.
“Where the hell is Phil?” She gestured. “It doesn’t take that long to put some one to bed.”
Alison got more agitated then got up without saying anything and just left.
There was a pause until they could hear the sound of Alison stomping down the steps.
“There is a story there somewhere.” Caryn observed, knocking back the rest of her drink.
“You reckon?” Dan responded, realising he was the only person left apart from her.
“Fancy a beer?” She asked.
“That would be nice.” He nodded.
She disappeared and came back two, 1 liter bottles of beer. She handed him one and unscrewed the other for herself. Then she slumped down in her chair across from him.
“Do you know what I miss most?” She asked.
“What?”
“Cigarettes.” She purred. “I haven't had a fresh one in months.”
“I miss them too, but I'm glad I've given them up.” Dan said.
“'Given up',” she snorted. “You'd still be smoking them if they were readily available.”
“Yes,” he smiled. “If a bunch of them landed in my lap right now, I'd smoke 'til I puked.”
There was still plenty of light from the candles and Dan could see a wicked look spreading in her smile.
“What did you think of Phillip's little toast?”
“A bit pretentious.” Dan said.
“He has become quite self-important hasn't he?”
“Depends on how you look at it.” Dan drank some of the cold beer. “He has done a lot for this household.”
Caryn took a gulp of the lager, the liquid frothing up inside its glass prison.
“You two are a lot alike.”
“You mean Phillip?” He asked incredulously, she nodded. “In what way?”
“You're both strong willed. Phillip is more of a control freak, everything has to be his way. You are more adamant about the things that really matter to you.” She took another swig.
“And what exactly do you think matters to me?” He looked at her, one eye cocked. “What have I been stubborn about?”
She laughed quietly, then knocked the bottle back. She swiftly wiped a trickle of beer from the side of her mouth.
“Oh come on.” She chortled. “That outburst at dinner?”
“So?” Dan said frowning. Then defensively. “I wouldn't exactly call anything I did at the dinner table anything like an outburst.”
“So, Friendship matters to you.” She retorted. “You couldn't let it be. Everyone wants to forget except you. But you won't shut up about it.”
“It wasn't really an outburst.” Dan repeated, retreating verbally. “And I don't bring that stuff up often.”
“You don't swear.” She observed.
“Huh?”
“Well you do, but rarely.” She conceded. “You know, this is the first time I've seen you looking and acting close to human in recent memory, you've changed a lot.”
“Right.” Dan said dismissively, having a sup of beer. “You know me so well.”
“Fuck you.” She smiled as she said it. “I know that you were lying when you said you wanted to be a doctor.”
“No I wasn't.”
“You said that too quickly.” She took a glug, then hiccuped. “Tell me what you wanted to be.”
There was no one within earshot, Michael was most likely asleep, and the two stoners were too far away to hear. Dan took a deep breath.
“When I was a child, up until I was fourteen, I wanted to be a priest.”
“YOU, wanted to be a priest?” Caryn laughed, Dan felt himself blushing. Then she realised that he was serious and ended her jocularity. “What happened?”
“I lost my virginity.”
“At fourteen?” Caryn asked to which Dan nodded, shamefully. “Wow, I didn't lose mine until I turned eighteen.”
“You don't mean?”
“No, no.” She said firmly, waving her hand dismissively. Then she caught him off guard by changing the subject. “What do you think of Jo?”
“She's a friend.” Dan answered.
“That you have sex with, and she happens to be shagging other people.” She said.
“She is having sex with more than one other person, so what?” He replied.
“And you are okay with that?”
“Me and Jo have a lot of history together. I don't mind as long as Orfax doesn't.” He said, shifting uncomfortably in his place.
“Do you know what?” It became apparent to him that Caryn was quite drunk.
“What?”
“Phillip called me 'Jo' once. I found it funny.” She looked away from him and frowned, then turned her face back to him.
“That isn't that weird, sometimes I call Phil B 'Craig', and Isaac 'Oli'.”
“I'll bet you weren't having sex with them at the time.”
“No.”
“Do you think I'm as pretty as her?”
She leaned forward putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. Dan felt his head spin, as he tried to figure out why she was asking him this.
“You're drunk.” He accused.
“So are you.” She pointed out. She was right, his head had started spinning more because of the alcohol in his system than her crazy questions.
“And I'm supposed to answer you?”
“It's a harmless question. Do you think that I am as pretty as she is?”
Dan didn't answer, he wasn't really sure what the answer was.
“Oh, fuck it.” She whispered, then louder: “Don't you love the way Phillip reacts to Michael?”
“Yeah,” Dan said, relieved to be on safer ground. “Do you remember when Phillip shot that seagull and Michael flipped out started shouting at him, calling him a bully and a badman?”
“I remember.”
“Phillip could have broken him in two. But instead he just apologised and offered to bury the bird.”
Caryn played with her bottle, resting it on the table and rolling it between her palms, Dan shivered as a brief gust swept over him.
“I think he's scared of him.” She said.
“Scared of him?”
“Well not scared of Michael, but of what Michael stands for.” Dan looked confused. “Phillip looks at Michael and sees what he might turn into. Old and frail, and it scares him that he might turn into someone who is incapable of looking after themselves and go crazy.”
“Too late for that surely.” Dan chuckled.
“What, to go crazy?” Caryn smiled. “You're one to talk.”
Dan stared at her again, not knowing a riposte.
“With Phillip you can see all this anger bubbling on the surface. When he's really pissed off you know it and know when to avoid him.
“You have it as well, except you bottle it up. No one can see it, all someone has to do is press the wrong button. I saw it in you on the first night here.” She made a sweeping gesture with one arm. “You are both as crazy as each other.”
“Do you know why I'm like that?”
“Why?” She said almost smirking.
“As far as I can tell, it's because I'm scared.” He drank some of his beer, because it was old, it went flat too quickly.
“Bullshit.”
“No, seriously. It's like this weird feeling inside, I get scared and it's like someone turning the volume up on a CD full of white noise. As the things become more fucked the more the sound builds up, and then I can't handle it...”
Dan hesitated, not knowing what to say next, the alcohol urged him on:
“Sometimes I stay awake just to make sure the sun is going to come up. I'm afraid of everything.”
They both went quiet, a pigeon fluttered away from Michael's hut and wafted into the night sky, without thinking, Dan shifted reflexively as a breeze caught him unawares.
“But despite being afraid. You say stuff. Like ‘To Lost friends’.”
“I never said that, I said ‘To old friends’.”
“But that isn’t what you meant and everyone knew that.”
“Like you said,” Dan shivered again, the night was starting to get very cold. “I bottle it up, and when I can't be scared any more, I just do what I have to, well, what I need to.”
“Are you cold?” She asked. “I've got plenty of spare blanket.”
“No, I'm fine.” Dan said, shifting his position.
“Are you sure?” She asked, seeing his movements of discomfort.
Dan hesitated.
“Actually, that would be cool.”
He got up and walked round the table and sat next to her on the seat she had been sharing with Maria. She extended her left arm and left the cover over his shoulders. He took it and wrapped it around his neck. They sat like that for a few seconds before she said:
“You need to shunt over a little or we'll both be cold.”
He moved so that they were side by side, and it was possible for them to join each end of the blanket. After Caryn slid her free arm around his back, he did the same.
They struggled for a bit then managed to arrange it so that they held the blanket shut with their legs, so that they could still drink their beers.
“You know I don't think I'm that drunk.” She said.
“Well if you aren't then neither am I.”
“Well let’s find our happy place.” She giggled. “Funny story actually, it was what my Granddad used to tell me:
“Caryn, when God created the world, around the fourth day, he realised there was a serious need for happiness in all his creations. So he got a big lump of it and intended to give equal parts to all his creatures. Unfortunately he tripped and dumped it in this huge vat of water. The happiness split up, and the water became beer.
“So now every man looks for his bit of happiness at the bottom of his can, bottle or pint.”
She started to knock back her bottle of beer.
“Sweet story.” Dan said.
“Is it?” She said doubtfully. “Is that the sort of thing you tell your eight year old granddaughter? 'You won't be happy unless you get pissed every day'.”
“I suppose not.”
“My Granddad was an alcoholic just like my Father.” She finished her beer.
“You're life has been paved with drunks.” Dan observed.
“Yeah, what with my family, Phillip,” Dan could make out her smiling as she talked, “and you.”
No comments:
Post a Comment